Page 93 of The Bonventi Secret
"Hey, Gabe," I say, turning to my brother. "Is it weird that despite how I came to be with Enzo, what he does, and all that shit that just happened in there—I want to be nowhere else. That has to be some fucked up shit, right?"
Gabriel smiles, "God damn, are we family. If it's fucked, then we all are crazy. Now," he says, opening the car door, "Let's get the hell out of here."
LIVIA - 35
Asoft touch against my cheek pulls me from darkness. I force my heavy eyelids open, blinking to adjust to the dim light. Enzo sits beside me on the bed, his face focused as he gently dabs at my cuts with a damp cloth.
"Enzo?" My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper.
His eyes snap to mine, relief flooding his face. “Livia,” he breathes. "How are you feeling?"
I take stock of my body. Everything aches, but the sharp, stabbing pains have dulled to a manageable throb. "Like I got hit by a truck," I admit. "But better than before."
Enzo's lips curve into a small smile. I then notice the dark circles under his eyes, and his usually immaculate appearance is a bit disheveled. His face has more stubble than usual.
"How long was I out?" I ask, trying to piece together the hazy memories of our escape.
"Two days," Enzo replies, resuming his gentle presses on my face. "The doctor said your body needed time to recover from the trauma, drugs, and blood loss."
I reach up, catching his wrist. His skin is warm beneath my fingers. "Have you been here the whole time?"
Enzo nods, his voice rough with emotion. "I couldn't leave you. Not again."
"Have you at least slept?"
He shakes his head slightly, dabbing at another cut. “No, I was too concerned.”
My heart flutters. This powerful man sits here tending my wounds like I'm made of glass. His touch is so gentle it nearly brings tears to my eyes.
"You look terrible," I whisper, reaching up to touch his face. He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm.
My poor attempt at humor falls flat as pain flashes across his features. "I should have been there sooner. If I hadn't let my pride?—"
"Stop." I curl my fingers around his. "You came for me. That's what matters."
He sets aside the cloth and cups my face, careful to avoid the cuts. His blue eyes burn with intensity. "I will always come for you, Livia. Always."
"I'm sorry," I whisper, tears pricking at my eyes. "For everything. The diary, the fight?—"
"Shh," Enzo cuts me off, rubbing my face. "None of that matters now. All that matters is that you're safe. That you're here with me."
"Do you mean what you said?" I ask.
"What did I say?"
"That you love me," I say with a slight smile to avoid opening the cut on my lip.
Enzo's eyes darken with an emotion that says it all. "I love you, cara mia. More than I ever thought possible," he says and leans in, pressing a feather-light kiss to my forehead.
"Well, I meant it, too. I do love you. Probably before I even realized I did."
Enzo's eyes soften as he gazes at me, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my cheek.
“Livia,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I was so terrified of losing you. When I got that picture..." He trails off, jaw clenching at the memory.
I can see the pain etched into every line of his face, the weight of guilt bearing down on his broad shoulders. It hits me then, just how deeply this man cares for me. How much power I hold over him, the same as he holds over me.
"And when I saw you there, bleeding," Enzo's voice cracks, and he takes a shuddering breath. "I've never been so scared in my life, Livia. The thought of losing you—it felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest. If that's not love, then I don't know what is."
